Prerish: A Collection of Tales ✔️

~ Shot - 2 ~

The grand entrance of Bajaj Mansion loomed before her, a formidable fortress of her past and, she now hoped, her future. Prerna stood on the threshold, a knot of nervousness and raw anxiety tightening in her stomach. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic drumbeat of uncertainty. How would he react? The question echoed in her mind, amplified by the silent, imposing structure before her. Yet, beneath the apprehension, a fierce determination burned. She was here to reclaim what was hers: her husband and her daughter, no matter the cost, no matter the resistance.

With a deep, shaky breath, she pushed open the massive doors and stepped inside. The familiar opulence enveloped her, but her eyes immediately found them. A genuine, soft smile, the first she'd felt in days, bloomed on her lips. There he was, Rishabh, chasing Kuki around the spacious living room, a food plate clutched in his hand, a rare, unguarded grin lighting up his face as Kuki giggled, dodging him with playful abandon. It was a snapshot of the family she yearned for, a poignant image that reaffirmed her resolve.

Her momentary trance was shattered by the unexpected feel of small arms wrapping around her waist.

"Kuki baccha," Prerna said, her voice surprisingly steady, though a tremor ran through her as she knelt down, her hands gently gripping Kuki's shoulders. "What did I tell you about running around the house, hmm? That you'll get hurt? Then why are you running?" Her tone was stern, but her eyes held a soft, unwavering love.

Rishabh, frozen mid-step, the food plate forgotten, watched the scene unfold. His mind, a whirlwind of disbelief and a thousand conflicting thoughts, raced. His eyes, usually so composed, reflected a turbulent sea of questions.

"Mrs. Baj— Sharma," Rishabh finally managed to articulate, his voice a low, rough query, his usual formal address catching on his tongue. "What are you doing here at this time? Because today is your engagement with Mr. Basu." His gaze was piercing, an unspoken challenge in its depth.

Prerna straightened, turning to face him fully, her eyes meeting his directly. Her heart still pounded, but her resolve was unwavering. "I would like to talk to you, Mr. Bajaj," she stated, her voice firm, leaving no room for argument. "ALONE."

Rishabh's brow furrowed for a few seconds, his expression unreadable. Then, with a curt nod, he led her towards his study. As they walked, Prerna caught a glimpse of Maasi, who stood watching them, a knowing, almost conspiratorial smile playing on her lips.

They entered the study, and Prerna closed the door behind them, the soft click echoing in the sudden silence. She turned to face him. Rishabh was watching her keenly, his gaze intense, assessing, almost dissecting her. The scrutiny was unnerving, threatening to unravel her carefully constructed composure. Yet, she met his gaze defiantly, refusing to yield, refusing to look away. The silence stretched, thick with unspoken questions and simmering tension, until, after what felt like an eternity, he finally broke eye contact, turning his face slightly away. A small, almost imperceptible quirk of her lips, a tiny flicker of triumph, touched Prerna's mouth. Rishabh, sensing her subtle reaction, frowned.

"What do you want to talk, Mrs. Baja— Mr. Sharma?" Rishabh asked, the slip in his address a subtle crack in his composure.

"First of all, it is Mrs. Bajaj to you," Prerna corrected him, her voice firm, leaving no room for argument. "And you will call me that, or Prerna. Because Prerna Sharma is dead the minute her mother chose to question and raise her finger on her character." A tremor of pain ran through her voice, quickly suppressed. "Also, I'm not interested in being with the people who always used me for their benefits. Do you understand?" Her gaze was unwavering, a direct challenge.